


won't stand for it

by authoressjean



Series: the changed future [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Dwalin is a BAMF, Esmeralda has No Fear, Gen, Humor, Lobelia is a hobbitch, M/M, Other, Wee bit of angst, You don't mess with Bilbo because the whole family gets involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows immediately after "I will shelter your heart from the storm".</p>
<p>Lobelia Sackville-Baggins is a terrible gossip and a wretched hobbit. These are all things that Dwalin would accept a lot better if she hadn't hurt Bilbo.</p>
<p>Because Bilbo is kin, and no one messes with kin. Not on Dwalin's watch.</p>
<p>Or Esmeralda's, or Primula's, or Kili or Legolas's. Which means, if Dwalin wants first dibs at cracking Lobelia, he's going to have to move quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	won't stand for it

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help it. So many of you demanded to know what happens to Lobelia - and by demanding to know what happens, told me very succinctly what would happen if y'all got a hold of her - that I had to write it. Besides, Dwalin was ITCHING to take her on.
> 
> This is nothing but shameless nonsense. Really, there's almost no plot here. We're just knocking Lobelia down a few pegs and Dwalin is proclaiming that he considers Bilbo a good friend and family. It's all fuzzy and funny feels from here on out.
> 
> Wee bit of angst. Because it's me.

She was stupendously easy to find. Even without Primula and Esmeralda _growling_ (and that, Dwalin was certain he was never going to be able to get over) in the hobbit’s general direction, he was certain he could’ve picked Lobelia Sackville-Baggins out of a crowd. For one, she was the only hobbit for miles that was frowning; the rest were either still sleeping off the celebrations of the night before, or merrily greeting each other as the day dawned with a little sunshine and clouds everywhere.

Secondly, she was the only hobbit who was marching up to and scowling in Bag-End’s direction, perched outside it like a vulture ready to strike. Dwalin’d cut down a lot of vultures in his day to save kin who were near to death but not quite there. And thinking of Bilbo and death were two things he wasn’t keen on. He remembered the way Bilbo had been in Thorin’s arms, after Sauron had fallen: small, pale, bleeding and all but gone. He remembered watching Bilbo shuffle with his cane as he healed, wincing with each step on his right ankle. Never once complaining, never once saying anything about it except to wave the others off when they came with their concerns.

Somehow Bilbo had crept into the company’s hearts, and yes, Dwalin cared about him. He was Dwalin’s charge as much as Thorin’s, and more importantly, he was a friend. Mahal, Dwalin didn’t care what anyone else said: Bilbo was _kin_. Seeing Bilbo grin and laugh was as important as getting Thorin to finally chuckle or Balin to give that raised eyebrow of his that meant his brother was well and truly amused. It _mattered_.

And the hobbit in front of him had taken that away from Bilbo. No one deserved to be reduced to tears after a wedding, but especially not the little hobbit. Not Dwalin’s hobbit.

Now, if there were two things to be said about Dwalin, he figured they’d go about like this: the first thing was that he was a dangerous dwarf who was loyal down to his bones. He knew he’d go out one day defending those he loved. Might be Ori, might be Thorin, might be Bilbo. But that was the best known way to define Dwalin, son of Fundin.

The other thing was that when Dwalin was quiet and calm, he was typically even more dangerous.

So it was with a decidedly casual stroll that Dwalin approached the hobbit. Lobelia took one look at him and gave an unfriendly ‘hmph’. “Suppose you’re part of the dwarves that Mad Baggins brought back?” she said tartly.

Dwalin crossed his arms slowly, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but it hid his clenched fists. ‘Mad Baggins’ indeed: he’d faced a dragon, stood inside the fires of Mount Doom and saved all of Middle-Earth. And she had the gall to call him _Mad Baggins_. “Suppose I am,” he said. Somewhere off behind him, he could hear Kili and Esmeralda sounding _particularly_ unhappy with things. He probably should’ve told them why he left them in the marketplace.

Probably. But considering the reason they were upset was because he’d run off to do what they _all_ wanted to do, well…one of them would bear a tarnished reputation in Hobbiton dealing with Lobelia, and he’d rather it weren’t the little lasses, as ferocious as they were. He wondered if they’d uproot to Erebor: he could use them in the guards. They could help shape the others up.

Lobelia sniffed. “I’m not really that surprised, you know. Bilbo was always off doing _very_ different things. Truly, I don’t know why I’m shocked at all that he went and married a _dwarf_.” She leaned in, as if to impart some great wisdom, and Dwalin managed to not wrap his hands around her long neck. Maybe Ori was rubbing off on him and giving him restraint.

She licked her lips and when she grinned, it was a terrible thing. Dwalin had seen prettier orc smiles, and that was saying a lot. “Listen, I’m willing to help. You take your dwarf, and I’ll keep Bilbo here. You could still make an escape. I’ll filch something from the house and force Bilbo to remain here. I think it’s quite well of me to help you out, and I hope you’ll think well of the hobbits…particularly the name of Baggins that is _not_ related to Bilbo.”

Dwalin stared, and her grin eventually began to fall. “Well, do you want my help or not?” she snapped after a moment.

If he spoke, if he breathed, if he _moved_ , he was going to do something terrible that he was going to regret. Maybe. “You think ‘my dwarf’ didn’t want to marry Bilbo?” he managed after a pause. Because he had to have heard wrong. Going deaf in his old age and all that.

“Of course he didn’t!” she exclaimed. “Who would want to? Why do you think he was a bachelor for so long? No one wanted him!”

Dwalin knew very well why Bilbo had been a bachelor, because the hobbit had told them just as much on the journey to Erebor. “I just haven’t found the right person,” he’d explained. “After watching Mother wilt away when Father passed…” Dwalin could see even now the harsh swallow Bilbo had given, the false cheer he’d put on his face as he’d continued: “Well, I just haven’t seen a point to it. Just seems to end sadly. And I have my books and scrolls and garden, and that’s enough for any hobbit, truly!”

Given how Bilbo and Thorin’s tale had almost ended, Dwalin couldn’t really blame him. But they were inside the hobbit hole in front of Dwalin and Lobelia, happy, _finally_ , and if this hobbit thought she was going to divide them when the Ring of Power and Mordor itself hadn’t been able to…

She was in for a rude awakening. And Dwalin very much wanted to be the one to give it to her.

Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for the life of Lobelia, the others caught up to them. “You leave Bilbo alone right now!” Esmeralda seethed. Lobelia’s mouth dropped open at the very _not_ prim and proper way she was being addressed. “I can’t believe what’s dripping from your tongue, and how it hasn’t floated out of the holes in your head already!”

Lobelia seemed to choke on her own air, and Dwalin used the moment to catch Esmeralda by the shoulders. The little lass was all but trembling, fists clenched into perfect punches. “Easy,” he murmured. “Don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Eru _damn_ my reputation,” she bit out, but she stayed beside Dwalin nonetheless.

Primula stepped forward and in front of Esmeralda as Lobelia finally managed to find her voice again. “Primula Baggins, your _cousin_ -“

“Whether you refer to Esse or Bilbo doesn’t matter,” Primula said sweetly, but underneath her voice was hardened steel. “Because they are both good hobbits in good standing.”

“Bilbo went off on that…that _adventure_ -“

“And he has Took blood in him, which makes it perfectly acceptable,” Primula said smoothly, overriding Lobelia with such grace that Dwalin was almost envious. If all hobbits were this politically savvy, Erebor would be in good hands with Bilbo as the King’s Beloved. “However, as a Baggins, I must say that your own behavior is absolutely deplorable. Not only are you being ungracious to your own family, but you’re being downright _inhospitable_ to married kin and guests! What _would_ the rest of the family think?”

Lobelia lost all her color, but only for a moment. Her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. “Bilbo is a disgrace and always has been. He tried to pretend to be a proper hobbit but deep down, he always wanted to leave Hobbiton and his family. His blood family, tossed aside for a dwarf!”

“Dwarf _royalty_ ,” Esmeralda insisted, and it took Kili and Legolas both to hold her back. “Thorin’s a King!”

Lobelia sniffed. “We hobbits don’t recognize royalty.”

There was only so much insult Dwalin was willing to suffer. Not only had she challenged Bilbo’s name and his honor, but she’d dismissed Thorin’s birthright, one he’d fought and nearly given his life to reclaim. Suddenly, he was very done with her. He used a hand to wave Primula and Esmeralda off when they began to argue, and had to level a firm glare at Kili to keep him back as well. Legolas looked as if he were _itching_ to grab an arrow, and Dwalin was thankful that Bifur and Tauriel were nowhere in the vicinity. Holding two hobbits, one dwarf, and one elf back was enough.

He slowly turned his gaze back to Lobelia, and her brief triumph at the others being shushed began to slide into tremulous fear. “You may not recognize royalty,” he said, voice low and dangerously soft. “Which is to the credit of the hobbits here, who’ve been nothin’ but kind and gracious and welcomin’ despite not _recognizing_ royalty.”

He began to stalk forward, looming over her, and Lobelia took short, startled steps backwards. Any other time he would’ve chuckled at the reaction, but right then and there, he could barely think past his rage. “But what dwarves hold most precious above anythin’ else is kin and family. And Bilbo is our kin, _my_ kin now, and has been, long before the wizard sealed the deal. And believe me, he’s not unwanted, not with us. So you’ll do yourself a favor in leavin’ him alone, because Mahal help me, I ever, _ever_ find you so much as speakin’ about him again, and I’ll be forced to show you what dwarves do when their kin is threatened. And between you and me,” he said, leaning in much as she had with him, “it’s not somethin’ you want to do.”

The only thing that had color on Lobelia’s face were her lips, which were trembling even while she tried to push them together in a stern line. “Y-You wouldn’t,” she said, but it almost came out as a question.

Dwalin gave her a fierce grin, one that did absolutely nothing to ease her nerves. “I would,” he assured her. “Oh believe me, I would. Worst part is, I doubt any of _your_ kin would help you out.”

“We wouldn’t,” Esmeralda agreed, storming over to Lobelia. She glared fiercely from beneath her blonde and shining hair. “Believe me when I say that Bilbo isn’t the unwanted Baggins in Hobbiton. He never was.”

The words struck a chord in Lobelia, and not in a good way. With a snarl she shoved Esmeralda away, and if Dwalin hadn’t turned to catch her, the little lass would’ve hit the ground. Even as Primula, Kili, and Legolas darted forward with cries of rage, even as Dwalin turned with murder in his eyes, they still didn’t make it to Lobelia first.

The arrow shot out of nowhere and hit the ground neatly in front of Lobelia’s feet. With a shriek she stumbled backwards and slid on the wet ground, landing bottom first in the biggest puddle Dwalin had ever seen. For a moment, no one said anything.

Chuckles and laughter began to ring through Hobbiton, and Dwalin realized they’d drawn a bit of a crowd. Lobelia’s cheeks flushed crimson red, and she tried to get out of the puddle, but found herself getting caught in her drenched skirts. It took three strapping young hobbit men to pull her out, and she immediately ran off, as quickly as her sopping wet clothes allowed her.

Dwalin turned to Legolas and Kili, but they were looking behind them, where not a moment later, Tauriel came striding down the lane at a very nonchalant pace. Her eyes were hard as steel as they watched Lobelia go, though, and her bow was slung neatly over her shoulder. “Did I miss something?” she asked innocently.

Mahal, Dwalin didn’t want to like her, but at the moment, he had nothing but admiration for the elf. “Just a drowned rat scurryin’ off as she should,” Dwalin said. Tauriel’s lips turned up into a smile.

“A pity I missed it, then,” she said. Legolas gave her a raised eyebrow but said nothing, his own grin giving him away. Tauriel turned then to Esmeralda. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

Esmeralda managed to give a wide and bright smile through her blush. “No, nothing like that,” she assured the elf. “A bit embarrassed, I suppose.”

“For stepping forward to defend your kin?” Tauriel asked.

Esmeralda’s grin turned sheepish. “For stumbling back from her scrawny little push. I’ve more sure feet than that.”

Dwalin grinned and was treated to the rare _giggle_ from Tauriel. “I will have to show you how to adjust your stance when in battle,” the elf offered, still smiling. “A worthy warrior such as yourself should know how to do battle with more than just words.”

Esmeralda’s smile could’ve given the sun a break for the day. “Oh, that’d be _lovely_ ,” she gushed. She hurried off with Tauriel, talking a mile a minute, nearly bumping into Bilbo and Thorin as they came down the lane. Dwalin stood, looking to appear as casual as possible.

Which, of course, Thorin noticed, and immediately his friend narrowed his eyes. “Should I even ask?” Thorin inquired.

“Nothing of importance,” Kili said.

“Just talking with each other,” Primula confirmed.

“Simply enjoying the day,” Legolas added.

Thorin looked between all three of them. “And here I thought I’d left Fili behind in Erebor,” he said dryly. Dwalin snorted.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “We heard Lobelia, you know. I know she was out here.”

“How much?” Dwalin said suddenly. How much of her vicious words had the hobbit heard?

From the way Thorin pursed his lips and Bilbo’s lips turned down, Dwalin was willing to bet all of them. He cursed under his breath. “Had hoped to move her away from Bag-End before you knew she was there,” he confessed.

“He took off without us!” Kili said. “It’s not fair! We were all planning on doing away with her.”

“Doing _away_ with her?” Bilbo said, eyes wide. “Kili!”

“Not _that_ do away,” Primula said, waving Bilbo off with barely a thought. Bilbo didn’t look any more relieved at her casual dismissal. “Just…get rid of her, for a bit. So she’d leave you two alone and you could enjoy your newly-married morning together. What with the sun peeking out a bit this morning to help dry things up, you should’ve had a lovely morning with just the two of you, but when we saw Lobelia-“

“It’s my duty to protect the King and his husband,” Dwalin said with a shrug. Bilbo and Thorin both glared at him, and really, was this what his future was going to look like? Glared at by _both_ of them? Mahal, he hadn’t been that wretched in his life to deserve that. “So I was protectin’.”

“More like _harassing_ ,” Bilbo muttered, but his glare lessened, and Dwalin took it as a sign of victory. “There’s biscuits in Bag-End, if anyone wants any.”

“The spoils of war are my favorite part,” Dwalin said cheerfully, striding back to Bag-End. Thorin rolled his eyes but led the way with his nephew still bemoaning the fact that Dwalin had gotten to Lobelia first. He could moan all he wanted: he hadn’t been bested by an elf. Though he had to admit, it’d been a spectacular shot, and he could forgive it, as it’d obviously been on Esmeralda’s behalf.

A hand caught his arm, and Dwalin found Bilbo beside him. “Thank you,” Bilbo said softly, after a moment. “For what you said. To Lobelia. It meant a lot to me.”

Dwalin rested a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, and it was suddenly so important that the hobbit know this. “If it hadn’t been for you, Ori and I never would’ve found each other, as it were,” he said. “And I wasn’t speakin’ out of turn: you’re kin, and you have been for a long time. We don’t march into Mordor for anyone, y’know.”

Bilbo slowly began to smile. “And I’m very grateful to be your kin. More than you’ll ever know.”

Dwalin suddenly had an itch on the back of his burning neck that had to be scratched. Bilbo took pity on him and patted his hand, leaving him to his red face. “Prim’s favorite dessert is a good biscuit, too, so if you want one, you’d best hurry,” Bilbo tossed over his shoulder. “Besides, it’s going to rain again later. It may even drench the rest of Lobelia so she’ll match from head to toe.”

Whoever said the kindness of hobbits was their best trait had never seen their sly, conniving side. It was a beautiful thing to behold. “We could only be so lucky,” he said, and Bilbo’s laugh, coupled with Thorin’s answering grin, made the day that much better.


End file.
